withdrawing from the room. They thanked Raymond and went out to the courtyard. He trotted after them.
"We might come back again. You've got nice rabbits," Skarre said.
"That's what Ragnhild said. You can hold one if you want."
"Another time."
They waved and then jolted off along the bumpy road. Sejer drummed on the steering wheel in annoyance.
"That car is important. And the only thing we've got to go on is something 'in between'. But a ski-box on the roof, Skarre! Ragnhild didn't say anything about that."
"Everyone under the sun has a ski-box on their car.
"I don't. Stop at that farm."
They drove up to the house and parked next to a red Mazda. A woman wearing a cap and gumboots caught sight of them from the barn and came walking across the yard.
"Police," Sejer said politely, nodding towards the red car. "Do you have any other cars on the farm?"
"Two others," she said, surprised. "My husband has a station-wagon, and my son has a Golf. Why?"
"What colour are they?" he asked.
She stared at him in astonishment. "The Mercedes is white and the Golf is red."
"What about the farm next door, what kind of vehicles do they have?"
"A Blazer," she said. "A dark-blue Blazer. Has something happened?"
"Yes, it has. We'll come back to that. Were you home yesterday in the middle of the day?"
"I was in the fields."
"Did you see a car coming down the hill at high speed? A grey or green car with a ski-box on the roof?"
She shrugged. "Not that I recall. But I don't hear much when I'm driving the tractor."
"Did you see anyone around that time of day?"
"Hikers. A group of boys with a dog," she said. "No one else."
Thorbj酶rn and his group, he thought.
"Thanks for your help. Are your neighbours home?"
He nodded towards the farm further down the road as he looked at her. Her face was one of someone who worked outdoors often, healthy-looking and attractive.
"The owner of the farm is away, there's only a caretaker there. He left this morning and I haven't seen him come back."
She shaded her face with her hand and stared in that direction. "The car's not there."
"Do you know him?"
"No. He's not the talkative sort."
Sejer thanked her, and they got back into the car.
"He had to drive up there first," Skarre said.
"He wasn't a murderer then. He might been driving very slowly, and that's why no one noticed him."
They drove in second gear down to the highway. Shortly afterwards they saw a small country shop on the left-hand side of the road. They parked and went in. A tiny bell rang above their heads, and a man wearing a blue-green nylon smock appeared from the back room. For several seconds he simply stood and stared at them with a look of horror. "Is it about Annie?"
Sejer nodded.
"Anette feels so terrible," he said, sounding shocked. "She rang up Annie today. All she heard was a scream on the other end of the line."
A teenage girl appeared and stood motionless in the doorway. Her father put his arm around her shoulders.
"We're letting her stay home today."
"Do you live next to the store?"
Sejer went over and shook hands.
"Five hundred metres from here, down by the shore. We can't believe it."
"Did you see anyone unusual in the area yesterday?"
He thought for a moment. "A group of boys came in and each bought a coke. Otherwise only Raymond. He came in around midday and bought milk and flatbread. Raymond L氓ke. He lives with his father up near Kollen. We don't have many customers, we're going to have to shut down soon."
He kept on patting his daughter on the back as he talked.
"How long did it take for L氓ke to buy his bread and milk?"
"I don't know, a few minutes. A motorcycle stopped here too, by the way. Must have been between 12.30 and 1 p.m. Stopped for a minute and then left. A big bike with large saddlebags. Might have been a tourist. No one else."
"A motorcycle? Can you describe it?"
"Oh, what can I say? Dark, I think. Shiny and impressive. He was sitting with his back to me, wearing a helmet. Sat and read something that he held in front of him on his bike."
"Did you see the number plates?"
"No, sorry."
"Do you remember seeing a grey or green car with a ski-box on the roof?"
"No."
"What about you, Anette?" Sejer said, turning to the daughter. "Is there anything you can think of that might be important?"